


Non peccavimus + Deal + Prison

by EWM



Series: Whumptober2020  (MyfirstWhumptober!!) [17]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Emotional Whump, F/M, Gen, Hurt Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016), MacGyver Alternate Universe, Murder Trial, Poor Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Whump, Whumptober 2020, angus macgyver whump, mac au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27071776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EWM/pseuds/EWM
Summary: Blame Whumptober Day 17 for this monstrosity, this is my fairly literal interpretation of the prompt, I span it around in my brain and this thing came out. Happy whumping, feedback welcome ! I should add that this is more in the category of emotional whump rather than physical whump, but there you go.No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMINGBlackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused
Relationships: Angus MacGyver & Desiree "Desi" Nguyen, Angus MacGyver & Matilda "Matty" Webber (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Riley Davis & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Whumptober2020  (MyfirstWhumptober!!) [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995484
Comments: 74
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

The court room was quiet, that wasn’t quite true, there was a murmur of talk, but it was low and whispered. No one knew exactly what was going to happen, journalists were tapping away on their phones with nothing to write, the crowd in the gallery were excited, they were out for blood, the biggest murder trial of the decade, they wanted to know the verdict. It had gone on for weeks, the papers had been a in a frenzy and the arguments had gone back and the appeals. But now it had all come to this, this one moment. The case for the government sat on one side, their lawyers all pristine and in grey and silver. On the other side Desi, Riley, Bozer, Taylor and Matty sat waiting in the audience. None of them really said anything, there was just a lot of anxious looks between them. Taylor flicked a pen back and forth between his fingers, until Matty stopped him before it split open. The two lawyers that sat in front of them all stared at the door on the left side of the judge’s seat, silent and praying.

Mac sat behind the door, he sat on a cold bench in a black suit, his hands were handcuffed together, so were his feet. A long chain connected them, two guards stood by the door in front of him, ready to bring him out. His normal mess of long hair was harshly cut back, almost military and he was sporting an impressive black eye on his left side. He took deep breaths in and out, in and out as he replayed over the last conversation he had in his mind.

He remembered it vividly, he’d been excited, hopeful, desperate to see anyone, Matti, Desi, Riley, Bozer, even Taylor. But it hadn’t been any of them, it had been him. He’d sat down behind the plexi glass, clad in a blue prison uniform that made his arms itch, his face ached from a new bruise, but that was all fine because his family were coming to see him. Then his stomach dropped when _he_ had sat down on the other side. A picture of irritating good health and vigour in contrast to Mac’s exhausted and wrecked face and underweight physique. He picked up the phone and smiled at Mac, Mac reluctantly did the same on the other side

“Hello, it’s been a while, how have you been coping?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Now is that anyway to treat your benefactor?”

“You’re anything but that. Now why are you here?”

“I would disagree, if it wasn’t for me, you and all your little friends would have been dead long ago.”

“Why are you here?”

“Fine, since you insist on skipping small talk, I’m here to remind you of our agreement.”

“I don’t need to be reminded.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m hardly like to forget in this place.”

“Touchy aren’t you? You know the deal, keep to it and all the members of your dysfunctional little family will live long and happy lives, while you, well you will stay here, safe in the knowledge that your sacrifice will keep them safe.”

“I know what I need to do.”

“Indeed, but just a reminder, if you don’t, all those photos and all those recordings I’ve got will be released to the public. Everything you love with come crashing down and all your friends will die.”

“I don’t need the replay, I heard it the first time you told me.”

“But I don’t think you really understood it then, now you know, now in your current position I think you truly comprehend the stakes, however I want to hear you say it.”

Mac swallowed

“I’m waiting.”

“I understand the rules our of agreement and I’ll keep my end of the bargain… if you keep yours.”

“I’m a man of my word my word MacGyver, see you at your trial. You’ll be quite the star of the show.”

Then he’d left, Mac had slammed his hand into the plexi glass. The guards had reacted immediately, yanking the phone away from him and pulling him away, MacGyver after all was a dangerous criminal and they didn’t know what he would do.

One of the guards snapped his fingers in front of MacGyver’s eyes and brought him back to the present, they pulled him up, roughly and opened the door. Mac’s eyes found his family all siting anxiously, they smiled at him when they saw him. The guards walked him over his lawyers and put him in the middle seat, between them. They did not undo the chains or the cuffs, both the lawyers smiled at Mac, but didn’t say anything. No one spoke, nothing could be said at this stage. The judge came out of the right door and sat down, everybody stood up, but he didn’t say anything and then sat down again. The jury came out 10 minutes late, all eyes were on them.

“Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked

“Yes we have your honour” A young woman in purple said

“And how do you find the defendant?”

“Guilty on all charges.”

The courtroom went into an uproar, the journalists went nuts, screaming into phones. Desi and Bozer gasped, Matty put her head in her hands, Taylor swore, and Riley burst into tears. The lawyers that flanked Mac immediately got up asking about an appeal

“Order...order I will have silence in my courtroom!”

After the judge managed to get control again, the representative for the jury continued on.

“The jury finds the defendant Angus MacGyver guilty on the first count of first-degree murder. The jury also finds Angus MacGyver guilty on the second count of Malice Murder and that the defendant demonstrated gross recklessness and depraved indifference to human life.”

This last sentence through the court into an uproar again and the judge screamed for silence again which just about bought the room under control

“Mr MacGyver, please stand up.”

Mac stood up, struggling to keep his balance with the handcuffs and chains, he leaned one of his hands on the desk to support himself.

“Mr MacGyver, you have heard the verdict. These are horrific crimes you’ve been have been convicted of Mr MacGyver, at no point in this trial have you shown any sign of remorse, no indication that you have any feelings at all about what you have inflicted on your victims. The people died in horrific ways, you stalked them, tortured them and killed them. You’ve left families without their sons and daughters, you planned it carefully and carried out your horrors with the precision of a scientist. With this in mind, I’m sentencing you to life in prison with no possibility of parole. Case dismissed. Guards take this man away” With that the judge banged his hammer, the guards moved forward again and dragged MacGyver from his seat, as he was moved away Taylor moved forward and put his hand on his shoulder

“Mac, we’ll fix this, we’ll get a retrial I promise, we won’t let you spend your life behind bars.”

Matty echoed those sentiments, promising a way out. Mac smiled at them sadly, the guards yanked him away before any of his friends could hug him or even say goodbye. As Mac moved towards the door he saw him in the crowd, so he had been there, hiding and watching, he smiled at Mac and nodded. Then the door slammed in MacGyver’s face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac settles into his new life in prison and a shameless excuse for a bit of whump on my part. Happy whumping and happy reading!

The guards dragged Mac away, he was placed in a holding cell. They pushed him into it hard, he slammed into the opposite wall, scratching his hands, he flinched as his already bruised face hit the cold stone. He sat down in the room and stared at his bleeding hands, he had kept his side of the bargain, they would all be safe and him. Well he deserved to be here after what he had done. He would spend the rest of his life paying for it and that was just fine. The guards eventually returned, they returned with prison clothes and ordered him to lose the suit. He turned around and stripped, tossing the clothes on the floor. His back was speckled with bruises, as if someone or multiples someones had taken sticks to it repeatedly and Mac had done very little to defend himself. He carried a long cut on one of his shoulders that was still raw, he grimaced slightly as he pulled his t-shirt. One of them decided to poke him in the back, causing him to stumble slightly.

“Come on monster, pick up the pace, we ain’t got all day. The judge said you should be transferred to maximum security right away.”

Mac paused, he realised he wouldn’t be able to see his friends for months, super max’s were notoriously hard to get into even for the government and he’d be locked up tight. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. He just sighed and pulled the overalls on his t-shirt. He turned around and then the wrist and ankle cuffs were placed on him again and he half waddled along the grey corridor, he was taken to the back door and pushed out along with several other criminals, the others who had been sentenced that day he thought. He was pushed onto the bus, he was struck by how it was designed, each with a separate section for the criminal, like a mini holding cell, for the particularly dangerous types, he thought bitterly. One of the guards locked him into place, he settled in his seat and waited, eventually he fell asleep.

Mac woke up with start a few hours later, the man next to him was crying, not very quietly

“I’m innocent…I’m innocent. I can’t to a supermax. I’ll die in there. Please man I’ll die in there.”

The man, who was a comic contrast to Mac, dark brown hair and skin and a set of green eyes turned to face Mac and Mac looked away on auto pilot

“What about you man? What did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter…I’m not going anywhere.” Mac murmured quietly

A stubby, red faced guard interrupted them, he stood at the head of the bus brandishing a shotgun.

“Now listen ladies, you will file out of this bus in an orderly fashion. You will do as you’re told without question and you and me will get along just fine.”

So Mac got pulled off the bus, chained like an animal. He tried not to stumble as he climbed down, weakness was not a good look in prison. They all waited in line, listening to their names being called, protective custody vs general population.

“Angus MacGyver!” the guard called, he repressed a snigger.

Mac stepped forward

“Wait!” Mac turned and saw yet another guard come forward, he had a scraggly face and short stubbly white hair.

He pulled the clipboard away from the bus guard and looked down this list of names. He murmured to his colleague and a different prisoner was placed in protective custody in Mac’s place. Mac raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, neither did he move.

“You gotta problem convict?” One of the prison guards said, pushing Mac backwards. He shook his head and stepped backwards although internally he was brooding.

After that Mac and the rest of the prisoners were led through the disturbed routine of getting acquainted and settled at the prison. Mac had been through a similar routine this twice in his life before, once under cover (that hadn’t ended well) and of course when he was first arrested, although then that hadn’t been a supermax. They all got checked by a doctor, got scrubbed and clean. They were all given clothes and bedding, Mac shivered, his hair was wet and when he'd walked through the showers, one of the guards had given him a push, so he'd banged his head on the side. He moved his hands up tentatively and could feel a new cut on the back of his head. In no time at all he reached the general population, the noise was deafening, screeches and calls, abuse, nothing he hadn’t heard before. But knowing that this was going to be his world now depressed so much he wanted to scream or cry. He couldn’t think about that now, he was saving his friends, he was keeping them safe and that was the important bit. The darker bit of his mind reminded him that he deserved to be there as well, this was a worthy punishment for everything he had done and he would die in here. He found the cell that was his home now, four tiny walls and not much light and it was cold. There was a draft coming somewhere, he could probably stop it if he could some paper and glue, but just at the point he didn’t have the heart, he dumped the bedding on the mattress and put his back against the wall and stared into space.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing this in the line of writing this for the Whumptober prompts :D 
> 
> Mac takes a knife to the ribs and makes a friend. Happy reading and Happy Whumping! 
> 
> No 21. I DON’T FEEL SO WELL  
> Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection

Mac spent his first night in prison cold, he thought the place wasn’t properly heated and the blankets were inadequate, so he tossed and turned most of the night with the blankets wrapped around him as tightly as he could. The wet hair from earlier in the day did not help either. He still shivered, all his muscles felt tight and stiff. Part of his brain longed for Desi, his mind drifted back to what seemed like only yesterday, falling asleep next to her, feeling her body next to his, wrapping his arms around her, chatting and laughing in bed. But all of that was gone now, he was alone surrounded by dirty white walls and a smelly toilet. He couldn’t think of home, of people, of family, if he did he knew he would go mad very quickly. He was protecting them by staying here and that was enough.

He spent his first week in prison in a strange mix of boredom and extreme anxiety. He was waiting for an attack, he knew the crimes he’d be accused, well convicted of were horrifying even by prison standards and he knew it wouldn’t make him popular. An attack had to come from the guards, from his fellow prisoners, he just watched and waited. He walked around the yard, eyeing his fellow prisoners, he stayed very quiet in the laundry letting the boredom of folding the endless sheets wash over him. He sat on his own during lunch with his back against the wall, he didn’t eat the food from the canteen as he knew he’d probably vomit, but he played with cutlery back and forth just to give his hands something to do. As the days passed he realised his hands were becoming a problem perhaps for the first time in his life. Not only did he have absolutely nothing to do (never good for Mac), they began to ache, constantly. The cold of the prison did not help, he found his hands going red and getting stiff. The pain never went despite how many times he rubbed them together. His hands also got a series of small cuts on them which became sore, dipping his hands in cleaning fluid from the laundry didn’t help either.

Perhaps that was why when the attack finally came nearly two months later, he wasn’t ready and couldn’t defend himself. He was distracted by what at this stage had become a chronic pain in his hands. The attack was bold, it came in broad daylight in the middle of the yard. Mac wasn’t staying on the edge as he always did, he hadn’t been watching the scene. He had his head up, shutting his eyes, allowing himself a small moment of pleasure, feeling the sun on his face. If he blocked out all the noise, he could almost be back at home, on a lounger, on his deck. The prisoner took advantage of Mac’s distracted, happy face and punched his in the gut. Mac was brought out of his revery abruptly with a stabbing pain in his stomach. He coughed violently and slid down the wall, he managed to duck out of the way of the next right hook. He made to grab the guy’s arm, but the pain in his hands meant he couldn’t any kind of grip, so his attacker just pushed him back against the wall cracking his head.

Mac was dizzy for a moment and then recovered faster enough to see his attacker coming again. He dodged again, kicking out with his feet, overturning his attacker and knocking him onto his back, but his fellow prisoner, whoever he was, was tough and was up again almost immediately and going for him. Mac leapt away moving towards the exercise equipment, he grabbed one of the weights and threw it back at him, Mac hissed as pain shot through his fingers. The weight hit his attacker in the shoulder, but he kept coming. Mac ran again, placing a bench between them, but the guy made a running leap and jumped onto Mac. He fell backwards on the stone cracking his head again, this time he felt the blood come out. The other prisoner pull knife from somewhere and slammed into Mac’s ribs once, twice, three times. Mac cried out on the third as he felt one of his ribs break as well, pain spread through his right side.

At this point, a little late in the game, the guards came forward and dragged Mac’s attacker off him. The rest of the yard who had all been braying like wild animals at the fight were all on their stomachs, hands on their heads. Another set of soldiers came forward and dragged Mac to his feet, he started to cough blood over his clothes. He put his hand over his ribs, he to try and stop the blood flow, but then it was jerked away and he cried out. He just let his hands and arms hang as he was pulled along, his feet knocking along on the floor of the prison corridors. The guards dumped Mac at the door of the hospital, still bleeding, but conscious

“You reckon, you can keep him alive doc?” one of them called

The doctor came forward and groaned, taking in the bruising on Mac’s face, his bloodied hands and the stab wounds

“Both of you fuck off, he’s my patient now.” The doctor snapped, he took Mac’s arm on his not injured side and took him into the hospital wing.

“Easy, kid, just lay down here.” He put Mac down gently on the table and pulled up his t-shirt. There were three long stab wounds across Mac’s ribs and his whole stomach was covered in blood. The doctor set to work as he fast as he could, cleaning away the blood and stitching Mac up. Mac flinched away from the doctor’s touch and groaned

“Why are you doing this??? Why not just…let me die?” Mac murmured

“Because you don’t deserve to die, not like this.” The doctor said, not looking up from his stitching

“But I III killed people…I’m poison, you should just let me die.” Mac said weakly trying to push the doc’s hands away, the doctor still focused on what he was doing, ignored the feeble hands and continued.

“That may be so, but the whole hypocratic oath thing stands in the way of that.”

Mac stopped after that and let the doctor work, everything hurt too much, he could barely breath, pain was shooting up fingers and he could feel blood in his mouth.

**

Mac woke up later in a comfortable, for the first time in months, not cold. He registered the multiple beds around him, his head felt fuzzy and drugged. He felt bandages on his ribs and oddly enough on his fingers and hands. His whole body still ached, but it was marginally less than before. He was amazed that he was just in a normal bed, they hadn’t put any cuffs on him or anything, he was just laying there, half awake. The doctor who had saved his life came up to him not long after he had opened his eyes. He smiled at him

“Mr MacGyver, I’m glad to see your awake. I was worried my skills might have failed me for a little while there.”

Mac smiled weakly back at him

“You took three stab wounds to chest, luckily the man who attacked you missed any vital organs, so no serious internal damage, however three of your ribs are cracked, so breathing is going to be tough for a while. You might be wondering about your hands, you had an infection in your hands, you must have cut yourself early on without realising and let something nasty inside. It was never treated properly, so it grew worse and all those new little nicks you’ve got on your fingers won’t have helped. I compliment you on your pain threshold Mr MacGyver, you must have been in agony. That should go in a week or two, I’ve put you on a heavy course of antibiotics.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Mac asked quietly

“I’m a doctor, Mr MacGyver, my job is to treat people and their injuries and make sure they get the best care they can, no matter their crimes. You really should try and get some more sleep.”

The doctor started to walk on, but Mac called after him

“Wait! You..you saved my life and I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Doctor Arran, Mr MacGyver.”

“Thanks, would you um mind seating with me for a bit? It’s just uhh I haven’t spoken to anyone in a little while and ummm.”

“Of course Mr MacGyver.”

“Mac…my friends, they used to call me Mac.”

“Alright Mac, I’ll happily keep your company.”


	4. Desi +  Hope + Curses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've finally got a new chapter of my Mac in Prison story, originally started for Whumptober. Mac recovers, gets a visitor and does some thing stupid (arguably). This was going to be much shorter and then it expanded into a whole whumpy/comfort mess. Blame my brain, but tell me what you think. 
> 
> Believe it or not this was actually written with a comfortember prompt in mind day 8 - LASHING OUT

Dr Arran chatted to Mac happily for an hour or so. He didn’t mention Mac’s crimes or the trial (he like most of the U.S. would have heard about it). Instead he asked Mac where he grew, if he’d gone to college, normal things about his life. Mac found himself pouring out details about his life to a man he barely knew, simply grateful to have a normal conversation. He spoken about Mission City, MIT, even joining the army. The doc listened politely and nodded in all the right places and spoke a little answering Mac’s questions. Mac knew on some level he was probably being humoured, be nice to the violent crazy person and then you just walk away. But Mac didn’t mind, he was just happy talking. Arran’s soft-spoken tones made Mac forget the ache in his hands and how painful his stomach was and the bruises that still covered his back. But eventually Arran had to go back to work. Mac thanked him profusely again for his kindness, his generosity, just being nice to him. Arran simply nodded and with a little wave wandered off to check on the few other patients in the hospital. Mac lent back against the comfortable hospital bed and thought. Maybe he could survive here if Arran was his friend, not that he could really have any friends. But maybe…just maybe life could be dealable with at least. At least it could be a little bit better and stop his thoughts heading back to his old life.

Mac spent two weeks in the hospital. Arran came and spoke with him every day, he asked Mac how he was feeling, checked his bandages, checked his stomach. It was all done very matter of fact, very calm and clinical. There was no brutality to it which MacGyver was grateful for. After the first week Mac however, he started to fidget and move (all habits die hard). So one day when Arran came looking for him, he panicked; Mr MacGyver was not in his bed, he was in fact six beds down sitting on another bed fiddling with the wiring that went through one of the lights absorbed in something. Dr Arran stalked over, frowning

“Mr MacGyver, what exactly are you doing? Why are you not in bed?”

Mac was snapped out his trance, he dropped the wiring immediately and held up his hands as though Arran was pointing a gun at his back. The tone had been so powerfully reminiscent of the prison guards that some terrified part of Mac’s brain responded on instinct. He prayed he hadn’t upset Arran too much, that he wouldn’t get into trouble for simply trying to be helpful and repay the doc’s kindness

“I saw one of the lights was flickering. I know that type of LED, I thought I could fix it for you. They’re not hard to fix usually, it’s normally just a loose connection, so I opened the wiring to check. I’ll put it back. I I didn’t mean to make you upset or angry.”

Mac said still holding his hands up, he kept his eyes on the floor. Subservience was another way of surviving in prison Mac reminded himself. The doctor breathed a sigh of relief and came round and sat on the opposite bed

“Mr MacGyver, Mac…you may put your hands down...please.”

Mac put his hands in his lap and continued to stare at the floor.

“Look at me please.”

Mac turned his eyes up to the doctor; he’d gotten very use to doing what he was told in his short period in prison.

“Now tell me what’s wrong with the light?”

Mac eyes widened, whatever reaction he was expecting it wasn’t that. However he didn’t hesitate, he reiterated his explanation of the loose wiring, the LED lighting the make and model and then stopped abruptly

“And how would you fix it?”

Again Mac was deeply confused, but kept going, gesturing with his still bandaged hands. Arran nodded at him and gestured for him to continue. So Mac fixed the light just as he requested and of course the flickering was gone. At the end of his little demonstration Mac flinched a little.

“Thank you Mac, I think that’s enough DIY for today. If you’ll come back to your own bed.” 

Arran offered him an arm which Mac gratefully took, the doc quickly took him back to his bed and tucked him in. He didn’t speak to him; he just nodded and went off on his rounds deep in thought. Mac breathed a sigh of relief; he didn’t seem to be in trouble. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to make things, it had sort of been part of his sentence, just a computer hacker couldn’t touch tech, he couldn’t touch well anything in his case and build things in the way that he once did. He sank back on the bed and fell asleep revelling in the peace and quiet that he knew wouldn’t last much longer. Arran on the other hand, had plenty to think about. Mac fascinated him as a patient, he seemed very different to the ones he’d encountered before. Arran as a rule never looked up a patient’s crime unless it was absolutely necessary, he did his best to treat everyone equally (and that had been a stretch sometimes) and do his job. But Mac had got him curious, he was a high security prisoner, so presumably a violent crime of some sort and the injuries from the shive indicated he’d made some serious enemies. But Mac was the complete opposite of a violent man; docile and frankly a little sad even for a prisoner. He'd followed the case in the papers, but he knew not to trust the sensationalist details of tabloids and local rags. Mac was..a mystery to him. Arran also knew that appearances could be deceiving, but his own curiosity got the best of him. He went into the prison files, one of the perks he had as a prison physician and looked him up. It made for disturbing and fascinating reading; Angus MacGyver, former scientist; ex-army just as Mac had told him and…brutal child murderer? Really? Something in Arran recoiled at the thought. He also just didn’t think the profile fitted particularly well; child murders particularly the ones that Mac had been convicted of tended to have a certain personality type behind them that he just did not fit. Either way Mac was clearly bored out of his mind, who fixed a lightbulb as a thank you gift? Maybe…maybe he could use him? As some kind of helper or assistant? At least for this week, if he didn’t give him something to do. Mac was clearly going to start pulling apart things in the hospital. Perhaps Mac could help him here in the hospital? Fixing things maybe, or learning some of the basics? Mmmh maybe not? Surely, he could find a way to use him though?

So it was the following morning Arran was there earlier than usual waking up Mac with some medical scrubs and prison shoes in his face. Mac’s look of panic broke his heart

“Am I going back??…I’ll get up” Mac stammered, starting to get up, Arran held up his hand. 

“No, I just think I should make use of you while you’re here.”

“Use of me?” Mac was not calming down as he had hoped

“Fixing things, you clearly have some intriguing talents and I’d like to use them while I have you here, if that’s alright with you?”

“I of course. Please tell me what I can do to help…I want to repay you for your kindness to me…I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Arran nodded his approval and dumped the scrubs on the bed, when Mac raised an eyebrow, Arran rather acidly pointed out that he couldn’t run around semi naked in a hospital gown. Mac smiled and nodded, he stripped off and Arran politely turned away. Again Mac was struck by the doctor, he was civil and polite. He treated Mac almost like was a proper person. He coughed and Arran turned again, he gestured for Mac to follow. He led him into one of the small side rooms of the hospital wing. What looked like a defunct x-ray machine stood in the corner and a broken table.

“You think you can fix the table?”

Mac nodded enthusiastically, his dormant brain finally kicking into action after months of being on safe mode. He moved towards the table without even asking and started to examine the broken parts. Arran smiled at the change in the young man, it was like he was truly alive again. Arran departed and left for his rounds, he had expected Mac to come looking for him, after all the doc hadn’t left him anything to actually fix the table with. But 40 minutes later when there was still no sign of Mac, he returned and saw Mac lying underneath the table re-screwing in bolts with his hands. Seeing the doc come in, Mac got up and came over. He launched into an elaborate explanation of how he’d fix the table, jerry rigging small parts from other things he’d found in the room to stabilise it and undoing bolts and then redoing them up again and how of course this was probably a temporary solution, but it was last another six months and people could definitely lie on it again now and he could his use it for whatever he needed. Mac wiped the dust from his fingers on his cheek and looked sheepish. Arran simply smiled from ear-to-ear, he was about to take Mac out of the room when he said

“I could trying fixing that X-RAY machine too….if you like.”

“Do you think you could?”

“I could at least try??” Mac pleaded. If his old friends heard him then they would have been cheered and heart broken in equal measure, to think that their genius friend had lost some of his confidence, but not his inherent curiosity. It was a sad tangle. Arran simply gestured for Mac to have a go and he moved eagerly over. Arran stayed for a few minutes watching from the door, as the young man pulled the machine apart bit by bit. He really was brilliant. In the end Arran left him to it, he knew what he was doing wasn’t really appropriate, particularly with Mac’s crimes. But Arran was a firm believer in redemption, particularly for those who were sorry for what they had done. And although Arran hadn’t directly asked him that first interaction of ‘please let me die’ made him think that Mac was filled with remorse. Two hours later Arran returned, and the x-ray was half way to being fixed, various parts still on the floor. Again, Mac got up enthusiastically and explained everything to Arran and the doctor nodded and smiled. Eventually by the end of the day Mac good as his word managed to get the machine to jitter into life again.

As the week went by Arran repeated his little experiment, getting Mac to become a helper/handyman around the wing. He was always careful to do it when the guards were not about, he didn’t need Mac or himself getting into trouble. But he thought maybe there was hope for the young man yet. Even if he was a lifer and his file suggested he was, perhaps Arran could help him do some good long term. But eventually Mac had to leave, the day came when Arran removed the bandages from his hands and his stomach and although he would have three new impressive scars to add to his collection, he would ultimately be fine. Mac was so sad to depart, he had felt so stable around Arran, something close to his old self. But not too near to make him feel guilty or confused.

Mac stayed silent as he changed into his regular prison clothes and laid what had become his ‘hospital uniform’ on his bed. Arran waited for him and as Mac was about to brush past him, he offered him his hand. He simply said quietly

“Thank you, Mac, you’ve been a real help this week.”

Mac could have cried, he just smiled and then left. The guards who were waiting to escort Mac back to the general population didn’t take much notice of the exchange. Dr Arran had always been weird; way to nice the gen pop, to all the monsters. Mac was pushed and shoved all the way back to his hole in the general population. He ignored the screeching, abuse and threats and sat down on the bed and once again resumed his staring into space. He was determined to bury his experiences of Dr Arran; Arran had given him too much hope and that was dangerous in prison. He had to forget about him, about fixing things, about actually doing something good and retreat into the little black hole he had made for himself. Mac also knew another attack would be coming, managing to survive and be so heavily favoured by the doctor would mean he would now be a marked man.

A week past and Mac resumed his keeping his head down stance. He had received some furtive glances from other prisoners, but that had been it. One day when he was folding laundry in line, his mind elsewhere. He was wakened from his trance by a guard yelling

“Prisoner 218, Angus MacGyver out of line!”

Mac snapped to attention, dropping the laundry and stepping out, his hands not held up exactly, but held where the guards could see them. The guards pushed and pulled him along as they always did. He moved along the grey corridors, moving seemingly towards the hospital wing again, but surely that couldn’t be right? Or was this the attack, his eyes flittered between the guards. Mac was partly right, the guards stopped him. This time he saw the attack coming; a punch to the stomach, he dodged and span around, his own training kicking in. The two of them went for his stomach, he dodged again, slamming one man into a wall, his second managed to pin with a baton and he gasped for breath and scrabbled, the guard used his spare hand to pin Mac’s hands against the wall above his head.

“Now listen you useless piece of crap, just because you got favour in here with the doctor. It doesn’t mean anything, you’re still a monster, and you’re going to pay for what you did. Scum like you don’t survive long, understand.”

Mac gasped still stuck under the baton, by this point the second man had recovered and managed to get a right hook into his face. Then baton dropped, Mac fell to the floor. He was still gasping for breath and he could feel a faint trickle of blood coming from the side of his face, Mac was just grateful they hadn’t gone for his stomach. He wiped the blood away as best he could and stood again. The guards pushed him on as if nothing had happened, he was indeed going to the hospital wing again. Arran looked up when heard the knock at his office door. He smiled when he saw Mac and gestured for him to come inside, instead the guards entered first

“Doc, prisoner 218 as you requested.”

“Thank you gentlemen, that’ll be all”

“We should really stay doc, he’s a violent one, for your protection. You could get hurt.”

“Gentlemen, he did me no harm while he was in my care a week ago. I doubt that’s going to change”

“But doctor..”

“Gentlemen, this wing is my domain. You’ve heard my orders, now depart. I know where you are if I need you. Now leave, what did I tell your fellow guards last time? Ahh yes fuck off, he’s my patient now.”

Arran finished his mini speech and looked down at his desk again and waved his hand, not deigning to look up at them. Mac stood awkwardly to the side waiting for it to be over.

“Now that we’re alone. I’ve got a proposition for you, I meant it when I said I appreciated your help last week. And I think it would be useful for me and you perhaps if I had you around on a more regular basis.”

Mac looked at him, he started to hope again, he couldn’t help it. What was the doc proposing?

“Are you interested? There’s plenty in the wing to fix, most of the equipment is outdated and half broken. I’d be interested to see if you could pull the same trick you did with my x-ray machine with a few other pieces of tech around here?”

“Of course, I mean anything I can do to help. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

At this point Arran got up and smiled at Mac

“Good, well you can start now, first order of business. I suggest you fix that eye of yours.” Arran said pulling a tissue from his desk and handing it to Mac. Mac took it gratefully and dabbed the now bleeding again eye. Arran took him out of the office and began to explain his plans; the idea was that Mac would come to him everyday rather than the laundry room. It was already fixed the warden, Mac queried Arran having such influence

“Most of the patients tend not to die under my care and it makes the prison look good”

Mac shrugged and nodded. So from then Mac’s days took on a very different structure, he was still scared a lot of the time and stressed, he was waiting for the attack to come. But for the few hours he spent in the medical wing with Arran each day, fixing things, cleaning things he got some peace and Arran got the satisfaction of helping an extremely damaged young man do something good. Mac fell into a kind of rhythm, he found too that if he focused on those tasks that Arran gave him, that he could forget about the Phoenix and his old life. It gave him perverse kind of peace. That all changed the day Desi showed up to visit.

The day started out like any other. Mac had arrive at the wing, the guards had left him alone for once, Arran had given a list of things to and he’d began, but less than hour later, Arran had called him

“You’ve got a visitor.”

“What?”

“A family friend? A Miss Desiree Nyugen?”

“Yes…I know her. Why is she here?”

“ I assume to see you?”

“No that’s not what I meant!”

Mac stopped short. Arran waited for an explanation. But he got nothing. Instead the guards came a few minutes after, one of them was holding a set of wrist and ankle cuffs. Arran fumed

“Is that really necessary?”

“Yes Doc, this man” one of the guards said giving Mac a push “is a dangerous criminal”

“I suggest, you don’t agitate him then” Arran replied cynically “No Mac you can leave your jacket here, we’ll come back down here.”

“Not you doc. I’ve orders that only prisoner 218 is go up to the guards wing.”

“But..”

“Orders are orders, from the head of the prison”

Arran groaned and gave Mac’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. Then the guards snapped the cuffs onto MacGyver’s wrists and the chain around his waist and around his feet…like an animal. They pushed him away from the relative safety of the medical wing, through the gen pop, the kitchens and a whole myriad of other corridors and then finally the last door, he could see her through it. The guard to unlock it and then pushed Mac through. Desi couldn’t quite believe her eyes when she finally saw him after 3 months. He looked awful, but somehow better than her nightmares. He had dark smudges across his face making his blue eyes look even bigger than usual. His hair had grown out longer and he’d had bits of stubble, a look she’d never really seen on his face. He was sporting the yellow remains of what had been at one point a serious black eye. The prison uniform was blue, but oddly grey and dusty, like he had been working on a project of some kind. His hands were locked up and so were his feet. She moved towards him

“No touching!!!” A guard shrieked at her.

Desi shrank back. Mac didn’t move at all, he just waited, so docile, so obedient, like…a dog that had been beaten too many times Desi thought bitterly.

“Sit!” the guard

Desi sat on the rounded table in the room and Mac shuffled towards her and perched as best he could. The guard glared at them both making sure they stayed apart

“Hi, how have you been doing?”

He shrugged his shoulders. Something in Desi panicked, Mac quiet was not a good sign. She launched into her spiel; her apology for taking so long, how everyone was hard at work, they all missed him. Everyone would come visit him soon, Russ would working all his legal contacts, he knew he would get you out of this. There would be an appeal, the system would work, they’d get him free and he’d be home again. He’d go back to the Phoenix, they’d all get through it. Bozer, Riley and Matty send their love and told him that they would be there waiting for him when he came out. Up to this point Mac had just about kept it together, he couldn’t help stare at Desi, her dark eyes, her almost black hair, the beautiful tattoos. He’d missed her in a way that made his heart ache; her voice, her smile, just hearing her talk gave him some hum of pleasure, knowing that they were all there, all still alive gave him comfort. It meant that everything he had been enduring was not for nothing, they were all still alive. But when Desi said; they would all be waiting for him, he broke.

“Desi! Just stop!” Mac snapped

Desi stopped talking abruptly. It was so rare for Mac to lose his temper under any circumstance.

“I’m not getting out of here, you know it, I know it! Just stop all of this! Stop all this false…hope. It’s never going to work. I’m convicted a murderer, a child murderer!! That stain will never leave me. I’m going to die in here, alone. Just stop all this fake…stuff. Stop the fight, it’s done. The fight is over. Just fucking stop. Listening to you like this, I’ll go mad, thinking of all your waiting, risking your lives for me! It’s not worth it all right! I’m not worth it, I’m poison, corrupt. I wreck everything, tell Riley and Bozer to stop scheming, tell Matty to stop planning and calling in favours, they’re wasted on the likes of me and Russ, tell him, don’t waste his fucking money! He’s pouring it into a black hole. Desi fucking enough!!”

By this time, Mac’s voice had gone to top volume and he was leaning right at her, almost into her face. The guards moved into drag him away

“But Mac! You’re our friend! Our family, we aren’t giving up. We would never do that to you. I would never give up on you! None of us would. How can you give up so easily? We aren’t going to give up the fight! Mac you just have to hold out. I promise we’ll bring you home!”

Mac wanted to scream at this, if they kept this up. All this hell would have been for nothing. They’d all be dead and he’d be damned even more, he had to send her away, permanently or…or they’d all die.

“Desi. It’s done! I don’t want you here! Not ever! I’m a child murderer, I deserve to die in this place. I am going to die in this place! Don’t put your god damn lives on hold for me! I mean it! Then none of this, none of this is worth it! Don’t you get it??? If everything stops outside. Why the fuck I am even here? If you guys… if anything happened to you while I was in here. I’d never forgive myself. So that’s why I’m telling you, get the fuck out! Don’t’ come back. Tell the others that, I don’t want any of them here!! I don’t fucking want any of you here again. Don’t ever fucking come back!”

Mac screamed this last part in her face. Desi ever the solider didn’t flinch, there were no tears, only a neutral expression and quietly she said.

“We’ll never given up on you Mac.”

The guards by this time had dragged him and were pulling him, he was still cursing at the top of his voice

“Don’t fucking come back! I don’t want you anymore!”

They pulled him out into the corridor, his screaming could still be heard, until some guard managed to push a gag into his mouth, then it was just muffled shouts. Desi just sat there alone with her head in her hands. Mac pushed hard against the guards, they fought back. The cuffs on his wrists cut into him deep producing red lines around his wrists and ankles, on one of his feet it was so bad that he left a trail. His rage and panic fuelled him as the guards pulled him along. He managed to elbow one of them in the face, they pushed him back smacking him around the head. Finally they made it to solitary, a series of stone cold rooms, they held him in front of one of the doors as the restraints were pulled off. They pushed him inside fast and slammed the door behind him. He banged his fists against the door in fury, he screamed himself hoarse. He didn’t really say anything coherent, just mumbled phrases and curses.

Finally the adrenaline of his encounter with Desi wore off and he sat on the floor in an exhausted heap. He was surrounded by mostly darkness, there was a tiny slit of light seen through the door, but that was it. He calmed himself down in the black, he hated screaming at Desi like that but he had to push her away as hard as he could. Otherwise…otherwise all of them would be at risk from and he’d be trapped in here anyway, he would die either way. But at least…at least if he could keep her away, keep them all away, then his death would have some purpose, but not if…if he…that man (Mac couldn’t even quite bring himself to say the name in his head) found out, they’d all be lost.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac in solitary confinement and Dr Arran tries to work out what is going on with our damaged hero (written for comfortember too - prompt 9- CONFESSION)

Mac spent ten days and ten nights in solitary confinement, and he was lucky he didn’t get more the warden snapped at Dr Arran as he argued desperately for Mac’s earlier release. Arran fought with the warden for hours over Mac, said he was damaged, needed help, the guards abuse of him was chronic, he’d already survived one attack on his life, what if the guards killed him trapped in there, what if he ended up dying of starvation or worse in there who’s fault was it? The warden would have absolutely none of it, as far as he was concerned; Angus MacGyver was a brutal child murderer who had broken the rules of his prison and was getting what he deserved. Perhaps more importantly Dr Arran’s arrogance bothered him no end and he couldn’t understand the man’s logic. His kindness and generosity to the worst possible men, but the doc was useful too so he couldn’t really get rid of him or say what he thought to him. When the doctor was around there was less death, less illness, it all made the prison look good, so for now he the warden just about held his tongue. Arran wanted to scream in frustration at the warden for his lack of understanding and his refusal to help Mac or any of the other prisoners, but his swearing, his pleading for once got him nothing. So, the conversation ended with Arran slamming the door behind him.

Of course, Mac knew nothing about any of this. He remained locked in his dark little hole, a cell he couldn’t pace in, hell he could barely stand in it. He went back to being cold and shivering every night, it was so quiet that Mac swore he could hear his teeth chattering. Unsurprisingly there was no heating or bedding of any kind. Maybe they thought it was for his own safety or maybe they were just cruel or maybe they didn’t care enough at all to even really think Mac thought bitterly. He spent most of his time wrapping his arms around himself in a desperate attempt to keep warm. The cuts on his wrists and ankles got more and more raw as the days went on…and perhaps worst of all the ache in his hands came back. His fingers and his wrists ached every time he tried to stretch them out. He tried to sleep lying down on the floor, but the cold was son painful he would always end up getting up, scrapping his raw hands along the concrete walls. The best option he found he had was to crush himself into one of the corners as tight as he could, pushing his knees up against his chin. True it made his neck ache and his head, but it meant that less of him felt like it was freezing to death, in that position he managed to doze off in an uncomfortable, but at least passable version of sleep.

It was dark too bar one tiny line of natural light that came from bottom of the door frame; maybe a design flaw when they built the cell, Mac thought as he lent against the wall or perhaps the door had warped slightly with time, although that suggested that the door wasn’t made of concrete, which seemed odd to him for a solitary cell. Sometimes he got a flash of light, when the food or the ‘slop bucket’ got changed. That had been a fun experience, the first time that had had happened. A guard screaming slop bucket at him, Mac hadn’t even know the bucket was there having hurt too much to move around in the miniscule box, but then an angry guard and hand appeared cursing and screaming at him. Mac had scrabbled around in the dark and knocking into something metal covered in slime and gunk. He pushed it towards the guard and the guard swore at him as he touched the same slim ‘filthy fucking animal’ he screamed the flap in the door. After that Mac get the bucket near the door, he didn’t want to be screamed at again. His eyes got used to the darkness or the greyness as he sometimes called it, as the days went on he managed to make out the lines of the cell, scratches and stains on the walls or at least that’s what he thought they were. He did his best to occupy his mind in the dark, one day he tried to work out the exact proportions of the cell without a ruler (obviously), another day he recited pie backwards as far as it would go and imagined all the numbers covering the walls, then came chess, ironically not a favourite of his but the moves did occupy his mind and he could somehow picture the chess pieces dancing on the board in front of him.

The food was another thing, he couldn’t cope with. After the first five days he gave up on eating the food, it never stayed in him anyway, he didn’t stop drinking the water they gave him because he knew wouldn’t able to survive without it, whereas he knew he could go for much longer without food. Sometimes he whispered to himself, he couldn’t really talk or yell because one of the guards might hear and he couldn’t have that and the fight had bruised his neck too, he thought maybe his trachea was damaged as even whispering softly to himself could shoot pain down his throat if he wasn’t careful. Either way he kept his talking to a whisper, he talked about Bozer, about Riley, he wondered what they were doing, he hoped they were doing something nice outside in the light while he sat in the dark. He talked about Matty and Taylor, he talked about how much they argued running the Phoenix, he offered a prayer to the universe that they were getting on better. He compartmentalised away his screaming match with Desi, determinedly blocking it out of his head. He just said over and over again and that he wanted her to be happy and it was as simple as that, occasionally he referenced Jack, but that was dangerous territory too because it meant going back far too far, to a time before all of this, so his brain kept Jack out of his thoughts largely. So his days passed with mumbling and cold and aching hands.

The guards did eventually let him out again, Arran obviously had been right, they couldn’t actually let him die in there. When the door finally opened, the full light was blinding, Mac put his hands over his eyes in a panic because it was so painful. The guards ignored this and dragged him to his feet, holding their noses and trying not gag. Mac stank of sweat and other unpleasant bodily fluids when he came out. Dr Arran was waiting for him medical bag in hand, he was horrified by the smell and the boy’s appearance. But he was made of stronger stuff than the guards. He kept his reactions buried inside and concentrated on what he could fix. The more petty part of Arran was annoyed that this had all happened just as he had just about got the kid back on his feet again and now he was a broken down mess again.. Mac had become skeletal thin (quite an achievement considering he was skinny when he first came to them), the bruises on his neck had turned a nasty yellow green as had the black eye. The cuts across his wrists and Arran suspected his ankles as well looked raw and angry, another infection most likely. Solitary was never exactly clean. Mac was barely conscious, blinking as the guards held him up. Arran determinedly took him off their hands existing on a full medical examination before he was returned to his cell. Arran gently took one of Mac’s arms and lifted it onto his should and walked along with him. Mac almost passed out with relief. Arran he recognised, Arran he was safe with even if it was for only a little while.

They made it to the medical bay and Arran made Mac sit on one of the beds. Mac wobbled a little as his eyes continued to adjust to the light and his underfed body struggled to keep him upright. Arran said very little, he only dressed the wounds on Mac’s wrists and ankles, Mac hissed and tried to pull his wrist away as the doctor cleaned the angry red line encircling his hand, pain shooting up his arm. But Arran kept a firm hold; and cleaned the dust and gunk away and wrapped a bandage around each wrist and each ankle. He examined Mac’s neck afterwards, nothing was broken, but heavy bruising and possible internal damage, a perverse blessing as it would give him an excuse to keep Mac around longer. Next the doctor went into his office and found Mac some water and pulled some antibiotics from one of his many cabinets, he waved them in front of Mac’s face expectantly. MacGyver was so dopy at that point that he took them without complaint. The minutes passed and they both breathed a little easier.

“So tell me what happened?” Arran asked

“What?”

“That little outburst of yours when your ‘friend’ visited you.”  
  


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on Mac…you do. All the screaming, the cursing, the guards have been discussing nothing but your rant for days.”

Mac stayed silent, Arran couldn’t know, he couldn’t. He was going to put another person; an innocent person in danger, if he said a word. 

“Fine…you’re not ready to talk….I can understand that. I’m not priest hearing your confession and this certainly isn’t a church, you don’t know me or trust me….no it’s fine. I know you don’t trust me. I can understand that. “

Mac swallowed, he wanted to talk to someone desperately. But he bit his tongue, he had to stay silent. He just had to.

“Since you’re going to stay quiet. I think I’ll just make some educated guesses. Your friend whoever she was…I’m going to say girlfriend from the guard’s description of her told you something terribly positive or she tried to be positive. She tried to give you some hope, say that’d she fix this mess, possibly even that she’d wait for you. You don’t have any living family according to your file, but maybe you’ve got a circle of friends out there, maybe you’ve built your family.”

Mac raised an eyebrow

“Don’t look so shocked Mac, as head of the medical facilities hear I’ve got certain privileges when looking after patients and frankly the rest isn’t hard to work out.”

“I just don’t want to cause more trouble.” Mac managed to whisper

“That guard really did a number on your neck with his baton didn’t he”

Mac smiled weakly feeling the bruises around his neck

“Alright…I’ve got it right so far. Let’s see if I can find out a bit more. It’s obviously about your case…it made for grim reading; I’ve got to say. But there’s something in it, that doesn’t quite make sense to me. And I’d like to ask you, if you don’t mind?”

Mac shrugged his shoulders, he didn’t have to many options.

“Why?”

“What?”  
  


“Why did you do it?”

“Excuse me?”  
  


“It’s a simple enough question.”

“Why are you even asking me this?’

“I’d just like to know that’s all.”

“What happened to, not getting involved in patient’s crimes? Was that all lies? Why are you prodding around in my history? Why do you even care? Or does the rule not count for me?” Mac’s voice was getting louder and louder, his broken throat rasping the words out, filled by anger. Mac got to his feet, grimacing again as he felt the pain shoot up his wrists and legs, but he was determined, he made it to the door despite his exhaustion and the pain.

“You didn’t do it, did you?” Arran said quietly

Mac stopped in his tracks. He didn’t turn around

“All those murders, all those gruesome, overly elaborate killings. All those kids, none of that’s you, is it?”

Mac leant on the door for support breathing heavily.

“It doesn’t matter now, I’m here to stay. I am a criminal, I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

“Why did you take the wrap for it?”

“I made…..this choice to protect the people I love. As long as I stay here, my family are safe.”

Mac didn’t turn around; he’d already said enough. He might have already said to much. He’d have to watch himself from now on, the doc kind as he was, was now another risk. He’d have to stay away from him. But that wasn’t Mac’s choice as he tried to leave, Arran got up and walked over to him

“I’m sorry Mr MacGyver, but you’re not allowed to leave the medical bay.”

“Excuse me.”

“It’s my considered medical opinion that you are not well enough to be returned to the general population, so therefore, you will remain here.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“Actually, I can. Mac please don’t do anything foolish. Just stay here for a little while and recover.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac finally confess to Arran about how he ended up in prison and a little bit of whump...because why not ?

Mac collapsed against the door frame, his injuries and mental exhaustion taking over. Dr Arran came up behind and put his arm round Mac and gently led him back to the beds. Mac heaved himself onto the bed, obedient as a dog. He was just too tired….too tired to do anything, but behave. If Arran wanted him to stay here, then so be it, what was more person in his already bloodied ledger? Arran tried a couple of times to speak to him, but Mac remained silent, so the doctor gave up.

Arran was of course right, Mac was still far too ill to go back to the general population, aside from the bruising, cuts and malnourishment, he did have another infection in his system. As the days went on, antibiotics got poured into his system and his body slowly recovered. But Mac became listless and unresponsive, all Arran’s pleas at conversation went unheard. The doctor felt sorry for him, something had gone seriously wrong with this kid’s case and he felt like he had to help, the prison system had failed so many, Arran thought perhaps if he could help this one man. It would he didn’t quite know how to air it…, he just thought he could help in some way. Arran was a patient man and hopeful at heart, he thought if he could just keep Mac around long enough and provide somewhere vaguely secure for him to work, to heal maybe he would talk to him. So, he resumed his habit of giving Mac odd jobs to do from weeks before, although Mac didn’t really talk at all, he nodded and did what he was asked, fixing lights, tightening things. None of it was actually earth shattering, but it occupied his hands.

Three weeks later, Arran’s patience paid off. Mac came into Arran’s untidy office at the end of the prison working day ready to depart (he had been returned to the general population a week before without incident). Arran didn’t look up at him as he came back

“Um Dr Arran…I’m done. Do you wany anything else?”

“No that’s Mac, you can go. The guards will be here in a few minutes to take you back.”

“Okay…I’ll wait by the door then.”

“That’s fine.”

Mac turned around to depart and a on whim he spoke up

“It was a trick.”

“Excuse me?”

“You asked me why I took the rap for all those horrible crimes. It was a trick, I got tricked into being at the scene and by the time I realised I’d been set up it was too late.”

Arran got up and shut the door behind Mac, he indicated for Mac to sit in the chair opposite the desk, Arran perched on the desk next to him. Mac did not look up, but he kept talking.

“I was at the scene….because the man, the boy who wanted me there. His father died because of me, his son hated me for it and I guess when he contacted me again. He said, he wanted to talk to me…it was pathetic on my part. I hoped he’d forgiven me…and I thought if I went and saw him. Anyway…he didn’t show up….I came across this horrifying scene…the blood…the violence…the bodies all elaborately cut up.”

Mac paused for a breath, Arran squeezed his arm and smiled at him. Mac still did not look up from the floor

“So I didn’t touch any of it. I just explored…it was gut wrenching…the planning…the. It just was disgusting on so many levels. I didn’t make the connection at the time. I was going to call the local police but then they showed up guns blazing and…I was arrested. And well you know the rest.”

“Mac look at me.”

Mac looked up at the doc, although his eyes still had horrible dark circles around them, it was first time in months that he didn’t have bruises or cuts. Although he was still deathly pale, he looked a semblance of healthy Arran thought

“Mac…why didn’t you tell the police all this? Explain, it sounds very clearly like you were set up.”

“I did try and tell them initially, but somehow my DNA. It was everywhere, like planted everywhere. No matter what I said…it didn’t add up. My friends, my family they tried to help, but the case just got worse and worse.”

“You mentioned that you made this choice to protect them?”

“Yeah...half way through the trial…he contacted me again. He said that…if I didn’t take the rap for all of it and plead guilty…I…he would destroy my family just like I did his…”

“So that’s what you did…you changed your plea. I remember reading about that, it caused quite the uproar”

“Yeah…I thought. I thought he bluffing at first….but then my best friend…my brother…he got shot. He survived, but I realised…if I didn’t they might all end up like that. I didn’t have a choice.”

“So that’s why you reacted the way you did, when that woman came to see you? What was her name? Desi? Fear I suppose?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Arran took a breath and moved around to sit on his own chair.

“So what’s your plan Mac? Rot in prison for the rest of your days?”

“Excuse me?”

“It seems to me…you have to prove your innocence otherwise this person will still hold you hostage, no matter what. You do realise your family aren’t safe outside with this guy still on the loose?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I kept my end of the bargain and look if I don’t stay here, Boze or Riley or even Desi, they could all die!”

“He may kill them anyway”

“Noo….just look. I’m not asking for you advice alright! I’m telling you this…so you’ll stop hassling me! Stop looking into this. If you look into it more, you’re putting yourself at risk, your own family or friends. You have to leave me be!”

“Mac, try and hear me. You’re going to…have to fix this.”

At this point, Mac ran his fingers through his hair and started to laugh

“Have I said something funny?”

“No…it’s just. That’s what my friend’s used to say…when…when there was big disaster or some problem…I was the one they went to because I could fix anything.”

“You don’t really work for a thinktank do you?”

“What? Where did that come from?”

“Just a hunch. If your case involves, elaborate murder, set-ups and ‘big disasters’ then I’m going to say your more than a physicist at a local think tank.”

“I um…I’m an engineer technically.”

“Fair enough. Look Mac, rotting in here will not help you or your friends. If this person, you’ve still not given me a name by the way really is as dangerous as you say, he has to be stopped.”

“You think I don’t know, he’s dangerous! He’s a risk to society!”

“Then why don’t you do something?”

“I’ve already told you!”

“Yes I know, the risk to your friend’s lives…but I think there’s still something you’re not telling me.”

Mac looked down at the floor again or more specifically his hands. He worried he had revealed too much already, but part of him was relieved to get it all out. He’d be carrying the weight of this secret for months and it had been breaking him slowly, it had already so much of his life, he so wanted to tell someone. But…did he risk revealing the final piece? Maybe if he did the doc would understand? The doc would probably hate him for it, but it might get him to leave the thing alone. He knew at the moment, he was really only tell him half the story. He couldn’t stop now

“He…his father. I knew him in the army. He was a bomb tech like I was, much older…much more grizzled and…not really all there…Anyway he was in Afghanistan with me and there was…there was a disaster. I didn’t disarm it fast enough…the guy he survived, but he lost both his legs…there was this big scandal…he lost his pension. He went mad…and his family ended up paying the price.”

“You blame yourself for this man’s fate?”

“Yes… it was my fault. If I had done my job faster…not let him get to me. It would have turned out differently.”

“Mmmh”

Arran paused for a while. Mac was being oddly specific and vague at the same time, it was a bizarre tangled up combo of guilt and self punishment. It suggested volumes about the man’s own psyche. Mac looked up at the doctor, the silence was bothering him

“Look doc, I appreciate what you’ve done for me, truly. But the reason I’ve told you all this to...to keep you from looking into it more. I know what I did to this guy was horrible and what he did to me…look it’s all horrible mess. But if I don’t stick this out… at least for now. My friends, my family…they could all die.”

“You truly think, that’s your best option?”

“It’s my only option! Look Arran, of course I want to leave! I hate being stuck here. I hate that this guy has wrecked my life…but I failed him, his family. This is two fold…this my penance for my failure and it keeps my family safe.”

“Mac I..”

“Look doc…please give me your word you’ll drop this. You wanted to look out for me. This will help that.”

Arran waited for a few minutes before he considered his answer

“Alright Mac. I give my solemn oath…I won’t look up your files again, I won’t use my resources at the prison to move your case forward. Is that enough?”

Mac breathed a sigh of relief, he nodded and made to leave. By this time the guards who had been patiently waiting to take Mac were fuming. Arran got up to head them off

“My apologies to you both. I had to keep Mac a little bit longer than I planned. But… for your pains…” the doctor turned back to his desk and produced two packets of cigarettes and offered them to guards. The guards looked at each other and shrugged, they took the proffered bribes. They didn’t immediately cuff Mac or push him in the way that they might have normally done. Once out of the medical bay, their attitude shifted. The fact was that many of the guards hated Mac all the more now, he was at least in their eyes 'protected' and while they didn’t abuse him openly, they made sure he was an uncomfortable as possible.

They pulled the cuffs out and pushed them on his wrists too tight, so they cut into his skin. Because the doc had made them wait so long, they even chained up his ankles (something they were only supposed to do if someone violent). Again, it was all too short and too tight, so the blood circulation started to get cut off in Mac’s feet. He tripped twice, well the second time they had slammed him into the floor. Mac banged his knees and his wrists jarred a bit as he put them out to protect himself. He could hear the guards sniggering quietly as he hauled himself up. This unpleasant routine continued as they made it back to the general population. The guards pushed Mac through the gate unhooking the cuffs making sure they left a scratch behind. Mac stumbled again but just about managed to stay on his feet. The prisoners had lost interest in Mac, the fact that he spent time with the doctor meant that he was special or useful to the system, as system they all despised. But...the doctor was useful to many of the prisoners. So Mac was left alone sort of... the prisoners abuse was restricted to them tripping him up and spitting on the back of his head. He felt a blob of spit land on the back of his head as he walked around the little communal area they were kept in after dinner. He felt the wetness and shuddered, at least they’re not stabbing me in the gut anymore Mac thought cheerfully.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new update! Sorry it's been a while, life got in the way. Arran breaks his promise to Mac and heads out to the Phoenix Foundation and meets Matty Webber.

Dr Arran planned to keep his word to Mac, sort of. He did stop using his privileges to read Mac’s files. But he decided to visit Mac’s form home or near enough to it: the Phoenix Foundation. Arran told himself that he was technically still not breaking his promise to him as he hadn’t technically said that he wouldn’t look into his case outside of the prison. Although MacGyver had ultimately told him only half the story Arran hoped perhaps foolishly that if he went to Mac’s former colleagues (clearly they were important to him) they would rally and potentially find a way to overturn the verdict. If nothing else Arran could speak to them and convey something of how much Mac missed and loved them all (particularly Desi). Arran decided he’d have to take three days off to do it as the foundation was miles away and there was no guarantee they would even see him. He was also aware that he might be breaking some kind of prison rules doing this, but it couldn’t be helped.

He kept his plans vague (the issue of ruling breaking the rules still in his mind) and said only to Mac that he needed a few days off to deal with family business and that he would be back as quick as he could. To the boy’s credit (Arran knew Mac wasn’t a boy really, but he couldn’t help but think of him like that) he showed no emotion, he just nodded at Arran and wished him luck on his trip. Arran also told him that a temporary doctor would be in his place. Mac’s jobs would continue, just stay out of the temp’s way and he would be fine. Again, Mac nodded and kept his expression neutral. Arran worried about him because after he mentioned his little trip Mac became even more silent than usual. When Arran questioned him Mac simply said he would miss his company that was all. The young doc was filled with guilt, but he also thought he had to go. Mac wasn’t going to survive in prison, the faster he got out the better. The days passed and Mac was escorted back to the general population each day, no longer in chains at least. There was a relative calm.

Arran’s days off finally came. It felt odd to him not getting up early to head to the prison. He was twitching but kept his nerve. He ended up taking a train to LA as it would be faster and give credence the idea that he was actually dealing with family business. He relaxed a bit as he settled into the Amtrak ride trying to rehearse what he would say to them. Nothing came out right even in his head, he’d done some googling of the Foundation. It sounded like Matty Webber was the person to speak to. He’d also skimmed the news sites to fill in some of the gaps that Mac had left out from the case; he thought Desi Nyugen, Wilt Bozer and Russ Taylor (the co-owner of the foundation) were all important too and Riley Davis as well. Arran dozed off as the landscape flew past him thoughts of espionage and secrets filling his head.

**

Matty Webber had no idea a bomb shell was about to be dropped on her. Her day had started much like many others, with meetings and phone calls. She spoke to various teams at the foundation sending them off to dangerous places to save the day. She went via the tech labs, Riley smiled at her but didn’t say anything. She stopped by the shooting grounds in the basement, Desi ignored her completely. Webber and Taylor exchanged pleasantries both determinedly avoiding the main topic of conversation. She managed to get herself up to medical and say hi to Bozer and remind him about physical therapy. Bozer was able to forget her heavy heart even if it was just for a few minutes. After all that was done she went through her appointments and did boring paper work keeping a certain blue eyed young man from her head.

Arran made good time to LA, finding the Phoenix was more difficult. All the info he could find on it was vague and gave only an approximate idea of where it was in the city. After Arran had pissed off three cab drivers with his dodgy directions, he ended up walking the rest of the way. Getting lost as he trekked into what greenery and trees LA had (not much), but he did eventually find it or his best guess. The “think tank” was a set of non-descript brown and grey buildings on the edge of the city with a few trees around the back. Despite it’s unpleasant and dull exterior the inside was nice, it had a fancy carpet and a security desk. Arran went inside (the foundation was after all supposed to be a think tank, not a super-secret spy agency so no guards) and asked at the desk for Matty Webber. The guard laughed

“You want to speak to the director of the foundation?”

Arran nodded and smiled

“She’s busy today, come back tomorrow”

“I’ll wait”

“I wouldn’t”

“Could you just tell her I’m here?”

The guard just laughed and went back to his work. Arran frowned, this was going to be complicated. The hours ticked by and Arran largely stayed put (apart from the occasional bathroom break). He had thought if he just hung around long enough, one of them had to show up? He would have settled for any of Mac’s colleagues. He’d managed to find photos of all of them on the news. Mac’s scandal had given the Phoenix a much more public face so the once ‘covert group’ that Mac worked with were all findable on the internet in some form or another (despite Riley’s best efforts to make them disappear). As the evening set in and he saw the building empty of people Arran thought about heading to hotel and trying again tomorrow. But then he saw her! Webber, it had to be her, the dark hair and serious expression. She walked past him reading a book and he almost missed her

“Director Webber ! Director Webber, I need to talk to you! Please” Arran got up to tried and follow

Webber was not in the mood

“Make an appointment if you want to see me. If you want to visit the foundation speak to our public relations department.” Webber responded without looking at him

“It’s about Angus MacGyver”

At this point Webber gestured to the guard at the desk and he came forward to grab Arran and drag him out.

“I swear to God, I’ve had enough of journalists sniffing around my foundation, now get out!”

Arran was a stubborn guy. Even as the guard was pushing him towards the door he kept going

“No wait please! You misunderstand me. I’m not a journalist, I’m a doctor! Please wait.”

By this point Webber was walking away determined to get out the back the door and avoid this nutter

“I come from the Larkdale prison, high security” Arran had a brain wave as he was being pushed onto the street

“It’s about Mac!!!” he called

Webber at this point paused…she didn’t look back. 

“He…needs your help, he’s in serious trouble. Please, I…need to talk to you now.”

Arran moved back inside and pushed against the guard again. Webber still couldn’t bring herself to look back. The guard succeeded in getting him out the door a second time, instead of getting back in Arran waited outside and watched her back. After a few minutes she turned around and went out the door, she looked him square in the eye

“Come with me”

Arran thought he might melt from fear, she was terrifying. But he did follow her, she led him to her car. He got in the passenger seat and she drove away from the Phoenix. Matty remained silent, partly because she was still working out whether she was going to toss him out the door while the car was still moving. But she was also trying to figure him out. Arran was now just trying to keep his nerve. They drove down one of the main streets in Los Angeles . She drove past the shops and cafes all still open and came up to a small park, She snapped at Arran to get out (she had actually stopped the vehicle at this point), he did as he was told (he was having serious second thoughts about this plan). He waited next to the car and then followed her. Once they were through gates and on the path

“Alright, now we can talk. This better be good”

“I ummm…. Are we safe?”

“Safer than the foundation frankly and I still don’t know whether I can trust you.”

“Okay…do you want me to…”

“My patience is running out.”

“Alright…okay, so I’ve come from Larkdale. It’s about your employee Mac, Angus MacGyver.”

“What about him? What do you even do at the prison?”

“I’m the prisoner doctor, I met Mac when he came to me to be treated.”

“How badly was he hurt? Is he alright now or recovering?”

“He’s…alive and surviving now.”

Webber’s stomach dropped at that phrase and how carefully those words were chosen. The two of them stopped by a bench.

“Why have you come to me? Why do you think I care about him?”

“Well besides that previous sentence, you stopped when I called him Mac. He told me his friends called him that. I’m going to guess you’re in that set.”

“Go on.”

“Mac is in serious trouble. He’s not going to survive prison life.”

Webber stayed neutral outwardly even though inside her heart was hammering

“He’s told me about his case”

Webber raised an eyebrow at this

“Well I got it out of him when he came to see me.”

“Back up, came to see you? I’m not fond of people who talk in euphemisms”

“Really, but you’re a spy aren’t you? Isn’t that meant to be all cloak and dagger?”

“I’d like the story from the beginning please” Matty responded

Arran noted that she neither confirmed, nor denied the spy claim. But he did as she asked, Arran described how he had met Mac, the hit on him, how he had nearly died (something he’d not really mentioned to MacGyver himself). He talked about how ill the boy had been, how wrecked his hands were and how broken he had been. Webber kept herself together, internally she was screaming with rage. Arran cut to Mac’s confession or non-confession more accurately.

“So he actually told you he didn’t do it?”

“He said he’d been tricked into going to the scene and by the time he figured it out, it was all far too late.”

“Did he tell you by who?”

“He wouldn’t give me a name, but he said it was someone from his army days. A man who had disarmed bombs like him, there was some kind of scandal and the guy lost both of his legs. According to Mac, the family paid the price and…this is Mac’s penance.”

“Oh Mac…” Webber said softly, her heart breaking

“There was something else, he told me that he was being watched. That his family had been threatened and his “brother” had been shot, he didn’t tell me who. That was why he ended up pleading guilty to keep him alive.”

Webber put her head in her hands, all the broken pieces were coming together, months of confusion were starting to make sense.

“Why have you come to me? If you believe Mac, you’re risking your life. Why do it?”

“Mac is an innocent director Webber. He may have committed some other sins I don’t know about, but in this respect at least he shouldn’t be in prison. He should be free and…if I can help one innocent man then…I’ll be content”

“That’s enough for you?”

“Yes, I’m a doctor after all, I feel this falls under my do no harm remit.”

Webber smiled at the joke.

“I still don’t know exactly whether I believe you or not. I’m going to need to verify this story. No…look I need to find something that will back this up. I need to speak to my team about it.”

“That was the other thing, Mac’s partner – Desi is it? I’d like to give her a message if possible”

“Yes?”

“He misses her very much, their last interaction in prison didn’t exactly go well as I said. Mac clearly loves her and I hope it would help this young woman to know that he is thinking of her.”

“You seemed to have worked this all out very fast.”

“I was a criminal profiler in another life, I’m good at reading people. Criminals do have personality types, they’re not universal guides to who and what they are, but they’re generally useful. Mac never fitted into the type for these kinds of graphic, elaborate murders.”

Arran paused for breath, his profiler muscles were a little atrophied, but Webber seemed a captive audience. He also knew that he had to get her to trust him somehow

“Tell me what you think of Mac.”

“I’ve met him under the worst possible circumstances. But if you want my professional profiler opinion, albeit an outdated one. He’s got a great deal with wrong with him, no hear me out. His persecution complex is endless and he’s virtually OCD about a whole series of things and this manifests at odd points (he tried to thank me by fixing a little bulb), and gets worse when he’s stressed. However he’s basically quite kind at it his core if I had to guess and I also think he’s lonely. I suspect that might have been there long before I met him. He’s not got the characteristics of a killer, he’s too interested in things, in seeing how they work and he’s terribly worried what people think of him. I also suspect he has quite a serious temper, he keeps it buried because he’s ashamed of it – the persecution complex again. Some of part your friend simply doesn’t think he’s good enough in terms of family and friends so he keeps what he “perceives” as the worst parts of himself under wraps. That’ll be one of the reasons he didn’t tell you everything, he wanted to protect you and others, but some small part of him will have been scared you wouldn’t fight for him. That you would have believed he was capable of committing all those crimes and he wouldn’t have been able to cope.”

“You truly think that?”

“Someone who is confident, who is absolutely secure in who they are and knows people love them would have gone to their family and told them everything. That’s how they cope, their family, their loved ones are their rock. That person would have said we’ve have to fix this, we’ve have to stick together and beat this psycho. Whereas Mac, he’s still got the desire to fix everything, but he’s convinced he should do it on his own. He didn’t come to you because some part of him, Mac may not have even be aware of it thinks he’s not good enough. Also the reason he got tricked into this mess was because of his own guilt and shame. He wanted to be forgiven and he wants to see the best in people.”

“What did you say your name was?”

“Malcolm Arran”

“Who were you a profiler for?”

At this Arran hesitated a little bit. He wasn’t so keen on revealing his own history to a spy, but he was in it now.

“The FBI”

“Why did you leave?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why did you leave? FBI profilers, good ones are like gold dust in the bureau. They would have tried everything to keep you there, what made you depart?”

“A case went wrong and I lost my partner”

“And?”

“And I didn’t want to do it anymore without her. I had a medical degree and the prison was one of the few places that would take me.”

Webber’s interest peaked at the possible scandal. But for now, she’d got herself a useful asset that needed to be protected. The conversation moved on and she mentioned a safe house, he scoffed pointing out how unimportant he was and that he should get to a hotel. But Webber insisted pointing out the potential risks, Arran was not so concerned about his safety however Webber and her world intrigued him. So the strange duo got back in the car and she drove him to a CIA safehouse. It was an odd feeling, Arran had never dealt with safehouses very much in his work as a profiler, but interacting with her made him think of a life he had long left behind. She drove him to a small apartment on the edge of the city that had two CIA handlers already there. Arran was fascinated by Webber’s influence, a few quiet words and he was ushered inside with a promise from Webber to return in the morning.

There was a living and small bedroom, the handlers smiled at him and offered him some of their dinner. He was amused by their tactics (classic training, make an asset feel at easy etc). But he was also hungry (they’d been to in an out and got burgers). So Arran passed a relatively comfortable evening talking with two men he had never met before and licking sauce off his fingers. Webber meanwhile had gone home to think and make some phone calls. She had called up Taylor and Riley saying that they all needed to meet the following day, she knew Desi would never take her call so shamelessly picked up the phone for Bozer and asked him to get her there. Boze was eager to know more bugged her with all his might, but she wouldn’t give him anything. Resignedly Boze promised to make Desi meet with them and rang off. When that was all done and Webber was alone in her house, she started to cry. Her make up ran and her eyes got sore, she even had to find some tissues and blow her nose. But she continued to cry; exhausted and hopeful? That wasn’t the right word, hope was dangerous. The realisation that Mac’s case was far more complicated than they had first considered (something Matty had always thought was likely) and the potential to get their hands on real evidence that could help him, now that was scary and exciting in equal measure. It was another battle to be fought, Arran’s description of Mac and his condition brought home the reality that they were short on time. They had to rescue Mac and soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a note, I know nothing about profiling of criminals or other people. Apologies if my dialogue for Arran upset/annoyed anyone I made it all up.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I know, it's taken ages to update this story :(
> 
> I feel so bad :( 
> 
> If it helps this bit is super whumpy; both emotional and physical ( I am very evil)
> 
> Mac meets the new doctor and things do not go well.

After Arran departure Mac’s mind sank into the strange lethargic boredom that it had been in before Arran had taken an interest in him. He didn’t get called for to the infirmary for days. Mac worried the ‘little trip’ seemed to be lasting much longer and he feared that Arran would not return or something had happened to him as a result of Mac’s little confession. But it wasn’t as if he could ask anyone or check up on him. The days stretched on without any news. Each day was the same; the same rattle across the bars to wake him up, the same dull dirty blue clothes, the same yelled instructions and waits in lines, turn right and wait, turn left and wait. The food didn’t get any worse (thankfully) and the laundry was just as smelly and sweating making as ever. One morning though a week after Arran had left, change came. Mac was walking along in line with the rest of the prisoners, he kept his eyes forward, he’d long learnt to tune out the jeers and abuse he got. This time he almost missed the warden

“Prison MacGyver, step out of line and remain silent!”

Fortunately the voice was so loud and penetrating Mac heard it and did stop. He stepped out of line and waited. Whatever this was, it wouldn’t be good. Mac kept his eyes on the floor

“Several days without incident, I’m impressed. No screaming matches, no fights with other prisoners.”

Mac burned with rage, very few of the injuries he currently had were from other ‘prisoners’. Other than the whole stabbing incident, but that had been a while ago. The guards clearly got a free pass, he thought. He felt the cuts arounds his wrists, still raw and scabbed.

“I’m here to inform you that Dr Arran will not be returning for the time being.”

“What? why?”

“Did I say you could speak?”

Mac shook his head and tried to repress the sick feeling in his stomach.

“However, since according to Arran’s last report, you proved to be useful. Your work will continue in the infirmary. The new doctor will call you when he is ready for you.”

Mac was then promptly dismissed. When he got back into the line, one of the other inmates gave him a push. So it was beginning again, while Arran had been there, he had a measure of protection. But publicly announcing his absence made him fresh meat once again. The twisted part of his mind thought perhaps he deserved all this. He had liked Arran and he had some measure of peace around the doc. But he harshly reminded himself that peace was not what this place was about, he’d done something disgusting and horrible and he deserved to be here. The doc had been kind and managed to put him at ease seemingly with no effort. But Arran was like that to everybody (with the exception of the head of the prison perhaps). He was always nice and civil to every person he came across (Mac wasn’t anything special to him, he’d just been trying to be kind, listening to Mac ramble). Still he had left Mac to work because…maybe he didn’t trust him exactly, but he apparently trusted him enough to fulfil a task. Two days after the announcement from the warden. Mac’s world shifted promptly. He ate what little food he could stomach, did the dull mind-numbing work (laundry) and then was told to go back to his cell and wait. He figured that the new guy would have his own rules and wouldn’t want Mac running around on his own. He waited in his cell, aching, stiff and exhausted (he didn’t really sleep at night anymore). Mac waited so long that he found himself dozing against the wall. The sound of metal being run against the floor woke Mac up. He saw the two guards standing outside with a set of wrist and ankle handcuffs. They both had unpleasant smiles on their faces. Mac’s own curiosity beat out his common sense as he backed away

“Where you are taking me? I thought I was supposed to go to the infirmary. What am I supposed to have done?”

“Supposed to? I like that, that arrogance. Inmate you are going to the infirmary. The new doctor wants to meet you. But these are a must this time round. He says you gotta wear these, you’re a murderer and a danger even in this place, it’s these or no visit.”

Mac had no desire to be restrained or get his wrists ripped open again. He didn’t have the heart to look another new person in the eye and have to cope with that look of disgust all over again.

“Then no visit.”

“He’s cocky isn’t he? I don’t think our doctor’s going to no for answer. These aren’t a choice today.”

The two men rushed forward, Mac’s own training took over temporarily. He slammed the first into a wall and threw a right hook at the other one. He was angry that his relatively stable little world that he had built had been disrupted. He grabbed the second guy again to try and choke him out. But his partner managed to recover and slammed his baton into Mac’s back and his head multiple times. He held on for a while, but eventually he let got when the pain became too much and fell onto all fours breathing hard. A final crack over the head and he was out. The guards put the cuffs onto him anyway and took a strange kind of pleasure dragging Mac’s semi-conscious body through the halls of the prison. Just before they got to the medical wing, they leaned him against the wall and woke him up, they slapped him until he regained consciousness.

Mac tried to lift his hands to stop it, but registered the cuffs and the long chain to his feet. He lent his head back against the wall and tried to turn away. But they dragged back into place

“Now you’re going to behave aren’t you?”

Initially MacGyver didn’t respond, then the guard slapped him again. Mac could feel the blood coming out of his nose and the cut lip and nodded. Slowly they let him down to stand on his own. Then they shifted positions and pushed him the few remaining steps and through the door, making him trip as they went. The result was he almost crashed into the medical bay, and to Arran’s office. The guards caught him and presented him to the bowed head scribbling away.

“Doc, you asked to see prisoner MacGyver?”

“Yes… you can leave now.”

The man did not look up, his black hair continued to bob away as he scribbled. Mac waited shifting on his feet to try and give himself a more comfortable standing position. He could feel the bruises forming on his back and shoulders, nothing he hadn’t dealt with before, but he’d enjoyed the novelty value of not being knocked around so much. He also did his best to wipe the blood away from his nose and the cut in his head. Finally the guy looked up

“Prisoner MacGyver, I’m glad to meet you. I understand that the main doctor here gives you some sort of privilege or job?”

“Dr Arran’s very kind. He gives me odd jobs and I help...I do what I’m told”  
  


Mac didn’t really like the way this guy was looking at him. It was a look he had gotten used to, but it always made him feel sick to his stomach. That you’re not worth anything, you’re garbage or shit on my shoe look.

“Well, as my predecessor gives you a high recommendation. I’m willing to give you a chance to make yourself useful.”

“I’m sorry, predecessor? I’m not following.”

“Dr Arran won’t be back for some time. He’s sent in a message saying he’s going to have extend his holiday for family reasons. So I’m running the show, until and if he returns.”

Mac took a few deep breaths, but the way this guy spoke, it sounded like Arran was never coming back at all.

“Anyone in there prisoner MacGyver?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m here, I’m listening.”

“Good, now I’ve got some jobs for you.”

Mac nodded, he didn’t think that this guy would be the same as Arran and there was no use trying to piss him off.

“Alright, for starters. There’s a bucket and water waiting outside for you. I want you to wash all the floors of the hospital, go down on your knees for that, I want to see the floors of my hospital spotless. Come back when you’re done, after that you’ll do the nearby toilets, there’s other cleaning fluids you’ll need for that. “

Mac stared at him for a moment. He didn’t particularly mind cleaning, it was boring, but no more so than doing the laundry and he’d could make calculations with the various chemicals in his head to occupy himself. But…he’d hoped that maybe he’d go back to fixing things, to…helping…nor that cleaning wasn’t useful. But he knew he’d be bored and he got the feeling that this doctor was giving him this job to make a point.

“Again, are you hearing me prisoner MacGyver?”

“Yes, I am, sorry of course.”

“Good. That’ll be everything, you can go.”

“Um…could you undo the cuffs?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I…I don’t think I’ll be able to carry anything or move very far. I just um…it would help doing the job more efficiently.”

“You’re certainly very ballsy for a convicted felon.”

“I um…it was just with Doctor Arran. I didn’t have cuffs on me. So…um”  
  
Mac trailed off, he wasn’t trying to make the guy annoyed. He was just stating a fact, he could barely do anything tied up like this. He was honestly trying to be helpful and not difficult, but he felt like he might have just made the whole situation worse. The doctor who still hadn’t given his name got up slowly, he pulled what Mac saw were a set of keys from his drawer.

He didn’t say anything to Mac, he simply stood in front of him in a way that was deeply unnerving. He leaned against his desk and then from out of now where slapped him hard, so much so that Mac fell backwards, it was only the shut door of the office that stopped him from crashing to the floor. He blinked and moved his facial muscles, he could feel blood in mouth where his teeth had caught, speedily he swallowed it.

“That was for disrespecting me. I tell you when you can your cuffs off and no one else, understand.”

Mac coughed a little but managed to respond

“Yes, of course..”

“Now, yes I do think the cuffs should come off. But since I don’t know you or trust you yet and the appearance you’ve turned up in has given me no reason to trust you. The ones on your feet can stay on today.”

With that the doctor undid the chains at speed seemingly making sure to shred Mac’s wrists in the process. The spare chain that linked to his ankles was also removed. But the ones at the bottom did stay on. Then the doctor waved his hand to shoo MacGyver away. He shuffled towards the mop and bucket that had been left in the corner. He picked them up as best he could, but he could barely walk. It was a painful process, his wrists hurt and his back was now reminding him how many bruises he had. The bucket knocked into his shins as he walked spilling water over his clothes. He tried to open the door, but managed to drop the mop with a clatter. The doctor did nothing to aid him, he looked up at Mac when the mop fell to the floor. But he didn’t move to help.

“Are you quite finished prisoner MacGyver?”

“I’m sorry, I…I…I’ll be out in a second. I’m just…”

“You’re being clumsy… clumsy is the word you’re looking for. Clumsy. If you’re going to be like this, I’ll send you back to the laundry, I don’t need someone falling over his feet in my infirmary.”

Mac’s cheeks burned, he’d been accused of being many things in his life. But clumsy was never one of them. He just about got hold of the mop and the bucket, and managed to open the door with a shaking hand. Mac picked up on the doc’s last sentence as he departed

“And to think, people thought you were a genius on the outside.” 

He shut the door behind him and got to work as best he could. Thankfully the wards were pretty empty, so no one saw his stumbling and shaking. He washed the floors back and forth and of course it was painfully slow, at one point he tripped hard and fell to his knees, His hands jarred as he put them out to protect himself. Mac was stubborn and angry, this was different to what he had endured before. This was a perverse kind of humiliation and he didn’t really understand why the doctor, whoever he was even doing it. It didn’t seem likely that this was because of the crimes he had committed. If it was, Mac couldn’t understand the reasoning, why bother with him at all? It was just bizarre and cruel, at least with the other stuff, he could understand it and part of him thought he deserved it.

There was a more buried bit of his brain that had been hopeful. Arran had given him hope, his kindness and generosity had pulled Mac out the dark hole he’d buried himself in. Mac had done his best to ignore Arran, but the doctor had done it anyway. And now, Mac felt like…he felt like he was being treated like an animal, an abused pet and it made him so furious. At least, before…he knew wasn’t getting out, he was stuck here forever…but…just something about finding an ally, a friend, someone he could talk too. It had reignited a stubborn spark in him that he thought he had extinguished. As he wiped and cleaned with the dirty water, trying to ignore the returning ache in his hands, he thought of Desi and Boze and the rest of them. That was why he was here, that was he was doing this, putting up with all this bullshit. He thought of Jack too, he wondered if Matty had ever told him what had happened. Dalton buried on some undercover mission might not have heard about the trial, it was a relief. Jack had a job to do, he didn’t deserve Jack’s help, he didn’t deserve any of them. If they were safe and alive and happy, then he could put up with all of this, he could survive this and keep going. As the morning passed and Mac remained on his knees, his brain took over. He went back to old habits, making calculations in his head, reciting pie to a thousand. The doctor found Mac in some particularly dirty part of the wing around lunch time on his hands and knees.

“You seem to be taking your time with this job.”

Mac didn’t say anything, he just continued to scrub.

“I expect an answer prison MacGyver.”

“I’m going as fast as I can. If you’d just uncuff my feet…I’d”

“What was that??”

Mac was cut off mid-sentence as the doctor dragged Mac up by his hair.

“You’re going to behave prison MacGyver understood? You’re going to do exactly what you’re told, is that understood”

“But if I could just…”

The doctor dug his sharp nails deeper into Mac’s scalpel

“What was that??”

“Yes…I understand.”

The doctor then threw Mac back to the floor, he fell into the bucket and the water spilled everywhere. The doctor stepped over the mess leaving MacGyver in the filth.

“I expect this to be cleaned up, by the time I return.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess in this section, I was more going for psychological whump. The new doctor is not so obviously physically cruel to Mac, but wants to make him feel small and weak, how did I do? 
> 
> I also wanted to convey just how bored Mac is as well. I hope this isn't too repetitive (let me know!)

**Author's Note:**

> I feel I should say, I'm not a lawyer like at all, I tried to mimc the language of a trial, but I obviously took a but load of creative license as well. Let me know what you think :D Have I created another horrifying monster that I should continue? (yes this is evil)


End file.
